She found herself thinking about Elyas more and more. She could still smell him after they’d spent the day together, like cinnamon cookies and Hugo Boss. He reminded her of home, which raised an ache within her. He was a warm glass of milk in a world full of cheap wine: innocent, easy and good for her.

The world looked broadly the same to them both, only differing in its minutiae. But youth has always argued over the trivial. Philosophical and political, literary or culinary, they debated with a certainty blind to all alternatives, a certainty drawn from the bottomless pit of passion that is only found at the start of life. They were young and time had yet to set its limits, disappointment yet to curb their passions. Brick by brick, crack by crack, the dam that Jia had painstakingly built around her heart broke. The passion of ideologies spilled over into love of another kind, the kind that is hard to stop. They talked. They fought. They laughed. They kissed. She pushed him away. But he would not be dissuaded.

‘We live in a world that holds romantic love up as the ideal, over everything else. Romeo and Juliet, Heer Ranjha and Laila Majnu – our culture is steeped in this notion that love is a drug that makes us blind to our differences.’

‘I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something, Jia.’

‘I don’t know, I’m trying to figure us out. I never expected to be with someone like you.’

‘What do you mean, “like me”?’

‘I’ve lived like the Virgin Mary, I expected only ever to be with one guy, the guy my parents introduced me to, and yet here I am. You’ve lived a totally different life, been out with lots of women, had so many more options – and yet here you are.’

‘I’m confused. Does that bother you? Because it doesn’t bother me or change how I feel. What are you saying?’

‘I have no idea!’ she said. The truth was she didn’t know what it was about her that made him want her. She was difficult, her family was hard work, and things were complicated, so why on earth would someone like Elyas choose her? It didn’t make sense.

‘You don’t think love has anything to do with it?’ he said. ‘Human beings are not logical creatures. We’re emotional.’

‘Yes, exactly. And how do you trust those feelings? We’ve had such different upbringings and there’s nothing wrong with that, but wouldn’t you rather be with someone who gets all of you?’

‘Maybe, but that’s asking the impossible, and love doesn’t work like that. I like that you challenge my ideas.’